So, in between finally listening to the latest Dredg album (kind of weird and very unexpected, but not really as bad as everyone says, as long as you're in the right frame of mind) and completely geeking out over the newly-released single from Dream Theater (it can be heard here, and it's really good), I figured I was about due for another post, if only to get a bit closer to being caught up to the present day in releases.
Korn - Korn III: Remember Who You Are (July 6, 2010)

Love 'em or hate 'em - and there are plenty of people in either camp - Korn has never been a band to make the same album twice. Throughout their career, the band has flip-flopped between slick, highly-produced, highbrow albums chock full of left-field musical flourishes and the opposite extreme of raw, unrefined, visceral nu-metal simplicity. Both approaches have yielded a range of results, but Korn III: Remember Who You Are (the Roman numeral in the title seems to reflect yet another lineup change: the addition of drummer Ray Luzier) falls squarely and unquestionably in the latter category, adding an intentionally low-fi, almost St. Anger-like coat of paint to the band's chugging, simplistic brand of heaviness. It's a loose, even sloppy record, but in places, this aesthetic actually complements Korn's sound nicely. The trouble with this record, as on a good deal of their other records, is that the songs tend to run together with little to distinguish any of them from one another. Jonathan Davis's limited emotional range and unsophisticated - to put it quite nicely - lyrical approach tends to get overbearing, and James "Munky" Shaffer's guitar parts walk a thin line between refreshingly uncluttered and simply unremarkable; Reginald "Fieldy" Arvizu's signature bass sound is as grating as ever, and Luzier's drumming is sadly under-utilized - the guy's a fantastic drummer, but he doesn't seem to be a good fit for a band like Korn. Aside from a few tracks where the formula seems to click, the majority of Remember Who You Are tends to simply run together into a formless mass of average low-IQ-metal - slightly grittier than normal on the surface, but with the same uninspired content underneath.
Rating: 2.5/5
Standout Tracks: "Oildale (Leave Me Alone)," "Are You Ready To Live?," "Move On"
Avenged Sevenfold - Nightmare (July 27, 2010)

Anytime a band loses a member to a tragic and untimely death, one of two things tend to happen: either the band continues on with renewed inspiration in honor of their fallen comrade and produces some of the best material of their career, or the remaining members find themselves unable to continue as more than a shadow of their former musical selves. When Avenged Sevenfold's drummer Jimmy "The Rev" Sullivan passed away during the writing process for Nightmare, all eyes were on the band to see which one of these scenarios would play out. Thankfully, the remaining band members were up to the challenge, and produced one of the best albums of their career. A7X had finely tuned their unique mix of punk-metal energy, hard-rock attitude, considerable songwriting ability, and virtuosic playing over the course of their previous two albums (2005's City Of Evil and 2007's self-titled release), and it appears again here in top form. Nightmare is overflowing with enough satisfyingly chunky riffs and anthemic choruses to silence anyone who ever doubted the band's talent. Much ado has been made of the fact that none other than Mike Portnoy (formerly of Dream Theater) handled the drum tracks in The Rev's absence and briefly toured with the band in support of the album; many have gone so far as to cite Portnoy's involvement with A7X as the reason he left DT. But all that drama is neither here nor there - Portnoy's performance on Nightmare is as fantastic as you'd expect, and complements the band's sound very well while staying true to The Rev's drumming style. Put simply, Nightmare's a damn good album, especially considering the situation the band overcame to make it.
Rating: 4/5
Standout Tracks: "Nightmare," "Save Me," "God Hates Us"
Paul Gilbert - Fuzz Universe (August 3, 2010)

In my mind, what sets Paul Gilbert apart from the rest of the top-tier virtuoso guitarists operating today (your Joe Satrianis and Steve Vais and Yngwie Malmsteens) is that he doesn't seem to take himself too seriously. While everyone else is deadly serious about creating intricate art, Gilbert is in it just to have fun and shred his ass off - and, as evidenced more than ever by Fuzz Universe, his music is all the better for it. The songs here are by turns epic (see "Blowtorch" and the title track), quick and snappy ("Count Juan Chutrifo" and "Don't Rain On My Firewood"), and tongue-in-cheek ("Batter Up" and "Propeller"), and every track simply exudes enjoyment. Gilbert's skill as a guitarist has always been absolutely beyond question, and there are plenty of jaw-dropping displays of talent here to back that up - aside from being an incredible lead and rhythm player, he's an expert at coaxing all kinds of delicious tone from his instruments. There's more than enough musical range covered here to keep things interesting, too, from headbanging, horns-throwing hard rock to jangly pop to retro shuffles and even classical (a performance of J. S. Bach's Partita In D Minor translates surprisingly well to electric guitar). But the one overall feature pulling the album together is that it's just so much fun. You can tell that Gilbert and all the rest of the musicians involved had a joyful experience making this album, and that joy is infectious - just try listening to Fuzz Universe without feeling some of that joy, I dare you.
Rating: 4.5/5
Standout Tracks: "Fuzz Universe," "Don't Rain On My Firewood," "Blowtorch," "Will My Screen Door Stop Neptune"
. . . I've been a little on the busy side. Between moving to another state, lining up a new job, moving again, and getting ready for grad school, I haven't exactly had a whole lot of time to sit around and churn out reviews like I once did. Not to turn Relative Pitch into just another personal-life blog that no one cares about (been there, done that, just like a million LiveJournal-scribing angsty teenagers before and since), but since that stuff directly affected my blogging output, I think it warrants mentioning. Besides, I think I have a better excuse for my most recent unintentional hiatus than the last one (chalk the previous year-long drought up to pure, undiluted laziness; I'd like to think that's not the case here).
But anyway, lest you believe I've given up on the blogging thing again, here I am. I'll be trying to get us caught up to the present day as far as music releases go; keep your eyes open for some blurbs about noteworthy releases over the past year or so, starting in this post - I'll be cutting back on the formally structured, one-review-per-post format a bit, because honestly, who wants to slog through that much blathering about every little CD? You'll probably see it return for albums that are really a big deal (because, of course, that's not at all a subjective assessment of an album's worth), but it's probably not going to be the predominant format from here on out. Besides, like I've pointed out before, it's not like I'm getting paid for this or anything.
Band Of Horses - Infinite Arms (May 18, 2010)

I stumbled across this album by online word-of-mouth, combined with some YouTube previewing, meaning that I didn't have a whole lot of previous knowledge of Band Of Horses before spinning Infinite Arms for the first time. It's a refreshing way to approach a new release: minimal preconceptions of what you're expecting to hear. Largely because of this, Infinite Arms was quite a pleasant surprise. My first impression of the album's overall sound was that it reminded me of a much more country- and bluegrass-influenced Snow Patrol. I don't feel like that description does the band justice, though - Band Of Horses is a really talented group, and their 2010 album has some top-notch indie-rock songwriting. Words that come to mind when listening to this album: comfortable; homey; intimate. The songs wrap around you like a well-worn pair of slippers on a winter morning. Lyrically, each song seems to tell a simple yet evocative story, and it's hard not to get pulled in. Although, really, there's no reason to resist the pull; this album is a consistent pleasure, even if it's not quite revolutionary.
Rating: 3.5/5
Standout Tracks: "Laredo," "NW Apt.," "Blue Beard," "Neighbor"
Nevermore - The Obsidian Conspiracy (June 8, 2010)

This was an album I had pretty high hopes for. I'd heard a couple older Nevermore tracks prior to The Obsidian Conspiracy's release, and I had really enjoyed what I heard: super-heavy, well-written guitar riffs, impeccable musicianship (especially on the part of lead guitarist Jeff Loomis), and a suitably dark, if a bit cliched, lyrical approach. Intending to make their 2010 album a streamlining of Nevermore's occasionally bloated prog-metal MO, the band apparently cut out whatever x-factor was in their songwriting process along with the proverbial fat they trimmed from their sound. Don't get me wrong, there's still plenty here to headbang along to; Loomis continues to bring the goods as an absolutely shredding guitarist, letting loose on some technically amazing riffs and lead work. Many of the songs tend to run together, however, with few enjoyable hooks to remember. A lot of the blame for this falls on vocalist Warrel Dane: his oddly-inflected, almost classical-art-song-influenced performances just sound awkward in many places, making certain songs a chore to listen to. Dane seems to really like harmonic-minor scales, too - two or three songs here feature almost the exact same exotic-sounding vocal melodies. Almost everything about his performance seems uninspired, and that feeling seems to be shared by the rest of the band. It's probably worth noting that Loomis and drummer Van Williams left Nevermore less than a year after The Obsidian Conspiracy was released. Maybe they felt the same way about the album as I do. (By the way, Jeff Loomis has an instrumental solo record entitled Zero Order Phase, released in 2008; I'd recommend checking that album out over this one any day.)
Rating: 2/5
Standout Tracks: "Without Morals," "The Obsidian Conspiracy," "The Day You Built The Wall"
The Gaslight Anthem - American Slang (June 15, 2010)

If you've ever listened to an album that made you feel like a kid again, then you know what listening to American Slang feels like for me. I'm not usually a huge punk-rock fan, but The Gaslight Anthem seems to press a whole slew of buttons that most punk bands completely miss (not to mention the presence of a lot of other genres influencing their sound, including traditional American-heartland rock-&-roll and '90s-style alt-rock). American Slang is an album about being young, when you had all kinds of new-found freedom but no idea what to do with it; when every reckless night out came packaged with a morning filled with second thoughts; when you were just jaded enough to realize that heartbreak is bound to happen, but still not immune to the way it brings the world crashing down around you. Vocalist and songwriter Brian Fallon has a great gift for evoking all these emotions and more in each and every one of these top-notch, Americana-folk-meets-East-Coast-punk slices of life. Musically speaking, the songs are excellent; this album is overflowing with guitar hooks and singalong choruses, to the extent that literally every song has the potential to get stuck in your head for days at a time. Combined with the deliciously bittersweet feeling of nostalgia present in the album's lyrics, this makes for an unexpectedly compelling album, and one you'll want to revisit again and again. It's easily one of the best albums of 2010.
Rating: 4.5/5
Standout Tracks: "American Slang," "The Diamond Church Street Choir," "Stay Lucky," "Old Haunts"
(Note: I have no idea what the hell is going on with the formatting of this post. I normally don't have any issues with paragraph breaks and all that. I've officially lost patience trying to figure it out, though, so you'll just have to deal with it looking a bit weird.)